Tourniquet
by Wolfgoddess132
Summary: Grell has finally had enough of unrequited love and turns to self-harm to deal with the pain and self hatred inside. It seems like no one cares or even notices anything wrong, but someone does. Some one loves him and wants to help him. But will he let them in? Or will he spiral further and further into self-destruction? WARNINGS: yaoi, self-harm, and general angst.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Whisper by Evanescence

Catch me as I fall

Say you're here and it's all over now

Speaking to the atmosphere

No one's here and I fall into myself

This truth drives me

Into madness

I know I can stop the pain

If I will it all away

[Chorus:]

Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)

Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)

Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)

Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)

-Whisper by Evanescence

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Grell sat on the floor of his bedroom, tears pouring down his face, glaring at his reflection in the full length mirror resentfully. How he hated himself. He was so _ugly._ It was no wonder William didn't love him. No wonder Sebastian couldn't stand him. He was so pitiful it was disgusting. Grell looked down, and then up once more at his awful reflection. 'I'm so gross,' He thought to himself. 'So disgusting. So… So…'

"_Pitiful_!" he whispered aloud.

The tears started flowing faster. He was so ashamed of himself. This was a side of himself he couldn't stand to show. This was what he hid behind his happy façade, his true self. The _real_ Grell. He was really just a broken, lonely child on the inside. He needed someone to love and to love him in return. He needed _companionship_.

But no one could love such an awful creature. Grell couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't stand to see the ugly face in the mirror. His hand was flying before he even realized it was clenched. The impact of his fist hitting something solid broke him out of his daze, and he stared at the broken mirror. He was so angry with himself he didn't even notice the glass embedded in his hand until he flexed his fist. When he did realize it was there, he looked down at it in fascination. Pain filled his body and caught him off guard. The pain blocked out all of the bad feelings, the anger, the hurt, the resentment, and filled his body completely.

He sat there for a few seconds, until the high wore off and the bad feelings started to return. Grell was so tired of feeling awful, so tired of feeling at all. He pulled the glass out reveling in the pain that started throbbing in an offbeat rhythm with his heart. But he didn't want the pain to stop this time; he didn't want the feelings to come back again. So he took the shard of glass, rolled up his sleeve, and pushed it into his bare wrist. Grell hesitated for a second, and then moved the shard further up on his arm. He didn't want to die, not yet at least; he just wanted to stop feeling. So he made the decision and _pushed. _His skin parted easily and blood started to flow almost immediately. It felt so good he moved it up half an inch further and repeated the action. He didn't stop until his whole arm was covered in blood and there wasn't a single patch of clear skin.

Grell sat back against his bed, exhausted, and closed his eyes. He opened them ten minutes later to see blood still pouring out of the cuts. He was a Shinigami, so his body replaced blood faster than a human, but he was still losing too much blood. He tried to stand and go to the bathroom to bandage his arm, but his head spun and his knees gave out. "J'ai vraiment merde cette fois,*" he whispered to himself before he collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious.

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Grell woke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. It appeared he hadn't had any nightmares or disturbing dreams, which was highly unusual. Usually he was up extremely late, and when he did manage to fall asleep, it was interrupted by horrible dreams. So to sleep uninterrupted was a rare treat. He wondered for a spilt second why he felt so good, but when he felt the dull pain throbbing in his arm, last night came rushing back.

Grell sat up so quick his head spun once again. He looked down at his arm and grimaced. His whole arm was covered in dried blood and there was a very large patch of semi-sticky blood surrounding his body and tangling his hair. Grell sighed as he stood up; leaning against the wall for a second as dizziness almost overcame him again, and headed for the bathroom to wash up. He turned the water in the shower on scalding and started to strip off his clothes. He had to carefully peel off the fabric of his shirt to avoid ripping the freshly formed scabs, as he didn't want to start bleeding again.

Once he was completely naked he hopped in the shower and started to roughly scrub his body. When he made his way up to his arm he slowed the movement of the washcloth and carefully started to wipe away the dried blood off his arm. Once all the blood was gone, he finally got a good look at the cuts now lining his arm. They were all very deep and kind of jagged. There seemed to be a total of twenty eight cuts running up from his wrist to his inner elbow. Grell cursed quietly, how the hell was he supposed to hide these? They were _very _deep and it looked as if the slightest knock would reopen them. He couldn't afford to have anyone notice bloodstains on his white dress shirt and it was too hot to wear his beautiful red coat everywhere.

But at the same time he couldn't afford to miss work. He was at a standstill. Eventually he just decided to deal with it. After all, he _did _do it to himself. Grell finished his shower rather quickly and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He quickly pulled on his undergarments and pants first, but decided to wait on a shirt for now, to let the cuts air out. While he was getting his make-up out of the medicine cabinet his hand brushed a thick roll of sterile gauze. An idea flickered through his brain, and he grabbed the gauze before grabbing his makeup.

Grell didn't really feel like himself that morning and his make-up choices reflected that. Instead of using thick, gaudy cover-up to cover the thin scar running down from below his right eye and angling slightly to curve around his jaw; that he got from a fight with Sebastian; he let it show. Gone were the stupid fake lashes and thick lines of bright red eyeliner, replaced by thin black lines to darken his eyelids and make his eyes look darker and exotic, and the thinnest brush of mascara to slightly elongate his lashes and make them a bit more noticeable. Instead of thick red lipstick, he just put the barest hint of lip-gloss on. Finally he brushed his hair back and placed it in a low ponytail at the back of his neck. After all the preparations were done he grabbed the gauze and went to sit on his bed.

Grell flinched as he looked at the cuts. They looked so _bad,_ but he knew that now that he had started he wouldn't be able to stop. He meticulously wrapped the gauze around his arm and secured it with a piece of surgical tape. Once that was done he slipped his shirt and arm belts on. He threw on his red coat on top of it all, even though he knew he would remove it by 10:00 A.M., and was finally ready for the day. Sparing a quick glance at the clock, Grell realized that, for the first time since the academy, he wasn't going to be late. After quickly grabbing a razor sharp folding pocket knife and slipping in his pocket, just in case, he was out the door

French Translation;

*_I really fucked up this time_


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Tourniquet by Evanescence

Hello~. This is chapter two of Tourniquet, my very first fanfiction. Please tell me what you think. BTW thank you for reviewing. I reposted the chapter with your suggestions and Grell knows French because he is a very romantic person and French is the most romantic language. UT is going to speak French as well because another author I read had this really good theory about UT being French.

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I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more (so much more)

I lay dying, and I'm pouring

Crimson regret, and betrayal

I'm dying

Praying

Bleeding

And screaming

am I too lost

To be saved?

Am I too lost?

My god, my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

- Tourniquet by Evanescence

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Grell arrived at work an hour early, to the surprise of William, who was the only one there at this hour of the morning. Grell kept his head down as he walked passed his surprised boss to his office, not wanting him to see the changes and question him. He couldn't deal with that now. He just needed to be alone and do his work. William stopped him before he could get too far away.

"Wait!" he called. Grell turned slowly, not wanting to see William's face or let William see his.

"Yes?" he stood in front of William with his head down.

"What's wrong with you today?" William asked, exasperated.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, love," Grell replied, trying to put his mask back up. William looked pissed.

"It _is _my concern if it affects your work. I can't have you slacking off more than you already do. You have an abundance of paper work on your desk that needs to be completed and I have no intention of working overtime for you," William finished his rant and looked at Grell over the rim of his glasses.

"Is that all you care about, William? That I won't finish my work and you'll have overtime?" Grell asked in a quiet.

"What are you talking about, Sutcliff?" William asked in annoyance.

"Do you care about me? At all?" Grell asked, curious and a little sad.

He knew William cared little about him, but he kept this hope in his heart that maybe William might care about him just the tiniest bit, just because they graduated together. But all hopes were dashed as soon William opened his mouth.

"I have never cared for you, why on earth would I start now? You are nothing but an annoyance and a waste of space and time. You are the stupidest creature I have ever had the displeasure of knowing and if you weren't so damn good at field work I would fire you so I wouldn't have to see your ugly face. No one could ever love you and no one ever will. In fact, I quite hate you. Now get to work, you pitiful excuse for a Shinigami!"

William's cruel words cut deep. Grell was having a hard time holding back his tears by the end of the tirade and he knew he needed a fix of pain. Grell looked William in the eye and replied, his voice deathly quiet.

"I already know how pitiful and pathetic I am, but you could at least _try_ to pretend you don't fucking hate me. Whether or not you like me as a person, I am still your subordinate and a coworker. You are simply a heartless bastard, William, and I am tired of loving you."

With that, Grell walked away, leaving William in stunned silence from his words as well as his looks. Without all that makeup on, Grell was absolutely gorgeous. Suddenly, William felt foolish. He was finally seeing a part of the real Grell, and Grell moved on. William felt like hitting himself. He was so stupid. William thought back on the conversation they just shared and quickly grew alarmed. What Grell had said about being pathetic made William realize that the redhead wasn't as ditzy and vain as everyone assumed and it only made him feel worse. 'God, what have I done?'

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Grell walked into the bathroom by his office, fully intent on relieving his emotional pain with something a little more physical. He walked into a stall with his bag over his shoulder. Thank god he always carried a first aid kit on his person, to clean up any minor wounds he received in the field, though he never imagined he would be using it for this.

Grell locked the door and sighed when he realized he forgot to wrap his hand. Thank God William didn't notice the rather large gash across his knuckles. But then again, William didn't give two flying fucks about him, so he probably wouldn't give a shit even if he did notice. Grell pulled gauze out of his first aid kit and wrapped it around his knuckles.

With that done, he pulled the blade out of his pocket and rolled up his sleeves. He looked at his left arm, it was covered and there was no clear skin anyway. Damn! It looked like he was going to have to use his other arm for his relief. He switched the knife to his left hand and realized it was broken. Double damn! He was left handed. Oh well, he would just have to work with he had. He flipped the knife closed and brought his wrist to his mouth. Digging his fangs into his arm, he closed his eyes and jerked his arm sharply to the side. The pain that shot through his body was sharp and hot and he removed his arm to looked down at the bloody gash. The pain flowed through him like blessed fire and he sighed happily. It started to fade after a couple of seconds though, and he brought his arm back up to repeat the process. He ripped his arm open a total of thirteen times, careful not to overdo it, and wrapped it in a thick layer of gauze. After he came down from the intense high he was experiencing from the delicious pain he looked down at the floor.

"Shit!" He swore quietly.

He had a rather large puddle of blood pooling at his feet. With a sigh, he gathered some toilet paper in his hand and bent to clean up. After all the blood was off the floor he flushed the bloody toilet paper and watched the water turn pink before it disappeared. Grell stood back up and walked out of the stall then out of the bathroom altogether, making his way to his office.

Once there he sat down behind his desk and pulled his paper work closer, praying he would have no field work for once. He glanced at the clock and realized he had been in the bathroom for forty-five minutes, the clock read five fifty-five. Grell started in on his paperwork with his right hand, going a bit slower than he would have wished.

After four hours Grell was burning up. He removed his jacket carefully and set it aside on his desk. Looking down at his arms, Grell saw tiny bloodstains. Rather small in size, but glaringly obvious against the white background of his shirt. Grell glared daggers at the stains, but after his look unfortunately didn't set them on fire and make them disappear, he got back to work.

It was two-thirty before anyone bothered him and the person who did was the last one he wanted to see after his little outburst this morning. William looked positively astounded by the sheer amount of paperwork Grell had completed, and in such a short amount of time, that he didn't notice the redhead's heated glare, until Grell cleared his throat rather pointedly. Startled, William looked up and caught Grell's eyes for a split second before looking away again.

"I have an assignment for you," William stated.

He tossed the list of souls on Grell's freshly cleared desk. Grell nodded his head to show he understood and went back to his paperwork. William shifted awkwardly for a second before glancing down at Grell, noticing he was using his right hand when he was left handed.

"What is wrong with your hand?" William asked loudly.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, love," Grell repeated his earlier statement without even looking up.

William raised his eyebrow in disbelief. The office was silent for a few seconds before William broke it.

"Let me see your hand, Sutcliff," William said in a quiet tone.

"See?" Grell replied sarcastically, holding up his right hand.

"Your left hand, Sutcliff," William growled, starting to get annoyed.

"Why should I?"

"Because I am your boss and I told you to!" William replied, now seriously irritated.

Grell growled quietly and bared his teeth, but held up his left hand none-the-less. William was shocked to see gauze wrapped around the hand and bruising visible where the gauze didn't cover.

"What the hell happened?!" William almost shouted.

Grell was rarely hurt for more than a couple of hours, due to supernatural healing. The only lasting damage a Shinigami can sustain is if it was caused with a Death scythe or if it was self-inflicted.

"Why do you care, William?" Grell asked, finally looking up from his paperwork.

William was shocked back into silence just as he opened his mouth to reply. Running down Grell's face was a thin, raised white scar. 'When the hell did he get that?!' William asked himself in his head. On the outside he was calm and collected again.

"Because if it is hampering your work it needs to be taken care and I need to ensure it doesn't happen again. So I'll ask again, Sutcliff. What. Happened?"

William finished, gritting his teeth.

"I fucking broke it! Are you happy now? It is fucking broken and I'm still working fine."

"How the hell did you manage that?" William asked, his brow in his hairline.

"I punched a fucking mirror. Now leave me alone so I can work!" Grell snapped.

"Fine."

With that, William walked out. Grell looked down at his soul list and grimaced, he had to collect a child's soul. Fuck! He hated these assignments, they always depressed him. He'd just have grin and bear it until he could be alone to hurt himself again. Today really sucked.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N.: Finally finished. Horribly sorry for the long wait. Severe writers block, my internet went down, and dealing with horrible depression. But, hey, at least it is up. I would like to give Gryphon of Fire and Life for her incredible support and ideas. So… without further ado.

Disclaimer; I do not own Kuroshitsuji or Welcome To My Life by Simple Plan

CHAPTER THREE

Do you ever feel like breaking down?

Do you ever feel out of place,

Like somehow you just don't belong

And no one understands you?

Do you ever wanna run away?

Do you lock yourself in your room

With the radio on turned up so loud

That no one hears you're screaming?

No, you don't know what it's like

When nothing feels all right

You don't know what it's like

To be like me

To be hurt

To feel lost

To be left out in the dark

To be kicked when you're down

To feel like you've been pushed around

To be on the edge of breaking down

And no one's there to save you

No, you don't know what it's like

Welcome to my life

Do you wanna be somebody else?

Are you sick of feeling so left out?

Are you desperate to find something more

Before your life is over?

Are you stuck inside a world you hate?

Are you sick of everyone around?

With their big fake smiles and stupid lies

While deep inside you're bleeding

No one ever lied straight to your face

And no one ever stabbed you in the back

You might think I'm happy but I'm not gonna be okay

Everybody always gave you what you wanted

You never had to work it was always there

You don't know what it's like, what it's like

To be hurt

To feel lost

To be left out in the dark

To be kicked when you're down

To feel like you've been pushed around

To be on the edge of breaking down

And no one's there to save you

No, you don't know what it's like (What it's like)

Welcome to my life

Grell walked down the street dejectedly. The reaping he was assigned was finally over and he couldn't have felt worse. He had had to watch that poor little girl for 2 fucking hours as she slowly, painfully died of advanced lung cancer. It was absolutely horrible. And the worst part was that he couldn't relieve himself of the emotional pain with physical until he got home, as he had to finish the accompanying paperwork that was standard with a reaping. He wouldn't be done with all of his paperwork for another three hours, if he was lucky, and he still had an hour long walk to the offices. He didn't think he could wait that long. He contemplated ducking in to an alley to cut himself, but decided against it. He just wanted to get his work finished and done so he could go home. He didn't want to risk passing out and being late in returning to the dispatch. William would come looking for him and he would get the verbal lashing of a lifetime for 'causing overtime so you could cut your arms like a hormonal teenage girl' and he really wasn't in the fucking mood.

"Why the fuck am I still living?" Grell asked himself aloud. "Why the hell do I still bother with my pitiful existence when no one loves me!? I'm so tired of the abuse I want to scream! Je déteste ma vie; je veux juste mourir" he sighed softly, lost in self-doubt; not even noticing his voice slipping into French, as it was more natural for him to speak in times of high stress. He was always careful around his co-workers though; he didn't want them to know anything about his past, including where he was from.

He wasn't being dramatic or exaggerating; no one had ever loved him, not even his parents, and he knew it. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that being used and abused equated being loved, but he had always hoped that someone would eventually love him if they just got to know him; got past the mask he hid behind. But that dream died long ago; around the same time his innocence was ruthlessly stolen from him.

"Je me déteste tellement!" he spoke quietly, brokenly, knowing no one was there to hear him; no one ever was, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand him.

The self-hatred was not something he always used have, at least not to this extent. He had always worn a mask, always hated himself, but never this bad; he was never this fake. All this had started when his ex-boyfriend had shown his true colors a couple months ago.

_Grell walked home, rather depressed and late because of a couple souls he had to collect that night, and just wanted to be held and comforted. The child had been hit by a runaway carriage and had broken almost every bone in his body. The poor thing was only five fucking years old for Gods' sake, he certainly didn't deserve death. But it had happened, and now it was over._

_Grell just wanted to curl up and be soothed by the comforting words of his boyfriend, who always seemed to know exactly what to say to calm him down. Tonight would be no exception… or so he thought_

_"Darling, I'm home!" Grell called out into the loft apartment he owned._

_"It's about fucking time!" A gruff voice replied, the anger evident in the way the words were spat out._

_"What do you mean? I'm only about half an hour late. I told you I had to work late." Grell replied, shocked at the fury aimed at him, when there had always only been love._

_"What I mean is that I've been waiting for you for 3 hours so you could help me with a little… __**problem **__I've been having." The voice answered._

_Grell walked into his bedroom, expecting to see his boyfriend struggling with paperwork or something similar. What he didn't expect was to see him waiting and ready for… something. _

_"Darling? What are you talking about?" Grell asked quietly. _

_"I'm tired of waiting for you to be ready for me. I want you now and I don't care if you like it or not! I AM going to have you." With that Grell was pulled forward and forced onto the bed._

_"W-What are you doing?!" Grell asked, anger obvious in his voice, apprehension starting to worm its way into his heart._

_"I'm taking you!" The gruff voice replied simply. _

_Grell, for once in his life, felt true fear as his hands were forced above his head, cuffed to the bed, and he was forced into a kneeling position on his own bed. _

_"Micheal! Stop!" Grell screamed, trying to break the cuffs holding him as the newly named Micheal ripped his shirt clean off. Micheal didn't listen, too absorbed in trying to get the squirming Grell's clothes off. _

_Snarling when Grell managed to kick him in the stomach, Micheal grabbed Grell's ankles and hooked them to the footboard. Grabbing his switchblade out of his pocket, Micheal decided to just cut Grell's pants clean off. Once Grell was completely naked, Micheal smirked triumphantly. _

_Grell was starting to shake now. What was going on? Why was Micheal doing this? Grell was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder blades. He looked back and saw Micheal pulling his fist back for another hit. He could do nothing, he was chained to the bed and helpless. _

_After an agonizing half hour of Micheal beating the shit out of him, Grell finally got a minute break. He sighed in relief as he felt the blows stop raining down on him. His relief was short lived, however, as he felt blinding pain in his lower back. Micheal was raping him?! Micheal was raping him! Grell's last thought before blacking was how did it come to this?_

After being systematically beaten and raped for close to a year, Grell had finally escaped. But not without severe mental and self-esteem issues and baggage so heavy it was threatening to crush him every single day. He had finally found release, but he didn't know how long it was going to last.

"Personne ne m'aime et ne sera jamais" Grell sighed softly to himself.

No one noticed the dark figure that had been watching Grell from the rooftops, not even Grell himself. But this person shrouded in mystery had noticed Grell, heard every word out of the redhead's mouth, and vehemently disagreed.

"You are _wrong, _Grell." The stranger whispered, "I love you!"

He knew he would have to wait only a little while longer before he could help the beautiful, effeminate redhead; he just hoped the redhead could wait that long. With that said and done, he watched the red reaper create a portal and return home. Once he was sure Grell was gone and through the portal, he faded into darkness.

Translation:

Personne ne m'aime et ne sera jamais- No one loves me and no one ever will

Je déteste ma vie; je veux juste mourir- I hate my life; I just want to die

Je me déteste tellement- I hate myself so much


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